


The Price for Freedom

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Gerry an aristocrat, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mary Keay's A+ Parenting, Michael is a thief, consensual thievery, vaguely historical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: In which Gerard escapes to the city for a break from his mother, and things are stolen.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	The Price for Freedom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [takingyournarrative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/takingyournarrative/gifts).



> or: Usualöly

It had taken Gerard a while before he finally managed to climb out of the window. The idea had been simmering for a long time, but it wasn’t easy to stay unseen. And Gerard absolutely did not want to get caught.

He just had to get out, just a little bit. To breathe. He felt suffocated at home, under his mother's stern, never satisfied gaze. Under teachers instructed by her personally, always watching, correcting, yelling when Gerard did something less than perfectly. And, to them, he always did. And maybe they were right. He just didn’t care about those stupid books.

He wasn't allowed to go anywhere without supervision. His mother chose where he was allowed to go in the first place and she made sure that he stayed exactly where she wanted him to be. She didn't want him to mingle, didn't want him to ever meet the peasants he watched curiously from the carriage on the rare occasion she did have to take him into the actual city. She made sure he'd regret the looks alone later. 

But, if anything, it only made Gerard’s desire to escape, to get out, more intense. In general, the idea of freedom, of walking on his own at his own pace and knowing he wasn't on his way to some kind of aristocrat’s house he had to be polite with, appealed to him. The fact that his mother was so against it only made it more attractive. He didn't want to be found out. But the thought of her disapproving of what he was doing was enough to give him a little rush as his shoes touched the ground again. He made it out of the mansion. Now he only had to make it out of the estate itself.

Gerard had never been to town on foot or by himself. And certainly not at night. It was warm, but not unbearably so. Gerard had nowhere specific to go. He was familiar with the city's outlines from maps but it was still different to actually walk those streets, wander aimlessly. He kept looking back, of course, part of him afraid he might be followed, that somebody must have caught him leaving, was following him. His mother was too omnipresent for him to not worry about that. The streets were relatively empty, however, and Gerard found himself relaxing a little. He felt light.

He did notice when somebody fell in step next to him. Gerard tensed at first, eyes flickering up, expecting to see one of the servants. Instead he came face to face with a stranger, a round, freckled face, framed by honey curls brushing his shoulders, spilling down his back in a somewhat messy ponytail. He was looking at Gerard with a friendly smile, clear grey eyes catching the light of the street lanterns. It looked somewhat hypnotic.

"Out for a walk?"

Gerard wasn't exactly sure what the rules of conduct were in this situation. He had never been taught how to interact with a peasant, only that he should avoid them at all cost. So he felt a little out of his element. Ignoring him seemed rude, he sounded friendly, even though he was walking rather close. Closer than was proper, as far as Gerard knew. Though maybe it was different for peasants. His mother never let him get close enough to really see much.

So he returned the smile with a slightly nervous one. “Uh, yes. It’s…a nice night.”

“It sure is.” The blond flashed him another smile. “First time in the city?”

He was smiling so much. And it didn’t even look like those carefully curated smiles Gerard was used to from his mother’s acquaintances. It was somewhat infectious, and he found himself smiling back.

He didn’t, however, know what to answer. It wasn’t his first time in the city, he lived in it. Or well, a little outside of it, he guessed. But it was his first time in the city, on foot, by himself. So he decided to nod.

“It...it is. Do you live here?”

His hand was on Gerard’s shoulder, just for a moment. “I do! So, there’s a couple places you simply cannot miss out on…”

Gerard liked his voice. It had something melodic to it, a gentle lilt. It was pleasant to listen to, so different from all the stilted, forcefully polite speech Gerard was used to. It was nice, relaxing, and he thought his face might be going sore from all the smiling back, the nodding along. He was barely hearing the words by this point, too distracted by the sound of his voice, the smile, bright and tooth-gapped, the eyes that kept looking at him with gentle mischief, occasionally winking at a joke and Gerard laughed, unsure if he had understood it. 

Sometimes, he laughed and it was strange and wonderful and it sounded like the first real laughter Gerard had heard in his life. He had a habit of moving his hands while he talked, of tucking his hair behind his ear only for it to escape moments later and Gerard’s eyes followed the movement, transfixed. There was a grace to it his dancing instructor would probably appreciate. Gerard just found it incredibly nice to look at and he kept nodding, agreeing to whatever he was saying, asking, because he kept smiling at him, dazzling, and Gerard felt strangely giddy. He had never been smiled at like that before. 

“I’m sure you don’t mind me helping myself to the contents of your pockets, do you?”

Gerard smiled and nodded, and felt his face heat up slightly at another charming smile, again, forgetting to actually listen to the words with that smile directed right at him. The blond continued to talk and his hands continued to move as he did, and Gerard thought that, maybe, he was feeling happy. He felt like he could  _ breathe _ . It was a good night.

They parted at the next street corner. Gerard was a little sad, but also aware that he should be getting back. At least it had been fun.

“It was a pleasure,” the blond said, and his voice sounded even more like music now. He seemed happy, his mood even better than when their little walk had started and Gerard wondered if it had been him. He had never taken himself for enjoyable company. Somehow, the very idea of it in this case made him fluster a little.

“Oh, yes. A pleasure. Thank you for showing me around.”

“Anytime.” Another wink that made Gerard’s heart jump a little, and the blond was gone around the corner. 

Gerard watched for a moment, feeling like he had to collect himself. His face was aching from all the smiling, but it was a good ache and his steps were light as he started his way back home. He felt so much better. The fact that his pockets, too, were lighter wasn’t something that really occurred to him, not while he was still enjoying the lingering giddiness from his nightly walk. Or maybe it had more to do with the charming blond that had made him smile so much.

*

It was a struggle to get out of the mansion again after that first night. He did eventually notice that his pockets, previously full, were empty after that walk. But much worse,  _ Mary _ noticed. Gerard endured in near-silence as usual. It had been a while since she had gotten this mad. The pin, that stupid pin she made him wear everywhere. Gold. It was gone, too.

Gerard didn’t care. And even after Mary was done with her ranting and hurting and Gerard could feel the sting of tears in his eyes and his stomach grumble - there would be no supper for him - he was still thinking of how to get out again. Breathe in that city air, walk the dimly lit streets, aimlessly, steps easy and unhurried. Feel like there wasn’t something constantly weighing him down, more expectations, more eyes trained on him, his every move, every word. It had felt so good to let go of all of that for a little while.

He would also like to see the thief again. Gerard wasn’t mad, he hadn’t cared for any of his pocket’s contents. Part of him was even proud of how angry Mary had gotten. He was so tired of her, of all of it. Tired and hungry and planning his next nightly escape.

*

It took a lot more navigating to get out unseen the second time, but eventually Gerard had the patterns of the guards down and still managed to slip away. It was part of his training so, really, if anything his mother should be proud. Not that she would ever be, he knew. Gerard shook his head, trying to shoo away the sour thoughts. This was his night of freedom. And he would enjoy it.

He followed the same paths he had gone the first night, and he knew he was looking for the thief, seeing if he could spy some blond curls amidst the couple people walking the streets. He had chosen a more subdued outfit tonight, faintly remembering drawing eyes the last time. He had barely noticed, had been too enraptured with the thief. His smile, his laugh, his voice. Gerard even thought he remembered him asking if he could pick his pocket. That was ridiculous, of course, but if he had, Gerard would have probably just nodded along. The idea made him chuckle.

He wanted to feel that again, the lightness that had come with that conversation, pleasant, relaxed. It didn’t matter if it had been a trick, the blond was still beautiful and his laughter still followed Gerard into his dreams on the few nights they weren’t haunted by Mary, and Gerard would like to talk to him again. 

Maybe it had all been a farce, of course, Gerard was aware. But it was difficult to believe, the smile had looked so right on his face, the laughter had sounded so genuine. Probably a very good actor. Gerard  _ knew _ . But he would still like to see, to find out if that really was the case.

He heard the steps next to him after a while and the corners of his mouth quirked up even before he heard that melodic voice.

“You’re back.”

“So I am.”

Gerard felt the blond’s eyes wander over him, thoughtful. Maybe he was considering if Gerard had been smart enough to keep his pockets empty this time. He had, but he wasn’t going to tell him. For once, he felt like he knew more than whoever he was talking to and it was a little thrilling.

“On a walk again?” he decided to ask the thief.

“Ah yes, a lovely night.” He brushed a curl behind his ear, a smile on his lips. “It’s starting to get chilly, so these last few mild nights must be enjoyed.”

Gerard smiled. “Hm, how do you suggest I enjoy it?”

He was genuinely curious about an answer, but also incredibly satisfied to see the short surprise crossing the blond’s face, the confusion. He caught himself quickly, blinding smile back on his lips, and Gerard laughed. He joined in, and it sounded a little awkward and Gerard realised how much he had missed to hear it. It sounded better than in his memory.

It didn’t take long before things were very much like the first night, the blond talking and Gerard nodding along, smiling when he smiled, laughing when he laughed. He tried to follow the actual words better, he did, but his mind kept drifting, distracted by the gap between his front teeth, a particularly interesting cluster of freckles on his cheeks, the glint of mischief in his eyes before he winked at him. It still made Gerard’s heart stutter sometimes and he loved it.

Gerard didn’t exactly know what had happened, but he knew that he had agreed to it.  _ Don’t you feel a bit stuffy with all that fabric around your neck? Isn’t it a little out of fashion, even for your lot? _ And Gerard had nodded, and he did hate the cravat, it was too tight, as Mary wanted it to be. So he didn’t protest when Michael pulled him into a dimly lit alley, and came close, definitely closer than proper. Gerard was suddenly caught off guard by the pale lashes framing the glimmering grey eyes, lantern light catching in them as he kept looking down at his fingers and then up again, at Gerard’s face.

The smile he was giving Gerard as his hands worked on the silk was reassuring, charming, and Gerard didn’t really care how he had gotten into this situation when he was looked at like that. The fact that he knew it was a lie, a pretense to rob him, didn’t change that. The air was cool as it hit his exposed neck, fabric gone in one swift motion. The blond’s eyes lowered again, hypnotic as light danced on those nearly translucent lashes, and Gerard thought he’d like to kiss them.

A crease appeared between his pale eyebrows, easy smile turning into more of a frown. Gerard was about to ask when he felt a finger against his neck, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“What are these?” He mumbled, looking back at Gerard’s slightly flustered and very confused face.

“These?” 

The crease between the blond’s brows deepened. “The bruises.”

He sounded somewhat resigned when he said it, like he already knew the answer. Gerard cleared his throat. Of course. How had he forgotten? He knew he should lie, as she always told him to. But Gerard didn’t feel like lying, not right now.

So he didn’t. “My mother wasn’t happy that I lost all my money last time...and the pin. It was a family heirloom, I think.”

He still sounded a little distracted - the blond was still so close, there were a lot more freckles than Gerry previously thought, barely distinguishable against the pale skin - but otherwise his tone wasn’t much different than what he had been using to talk before. The frown on the thief’s face deepened, and when he looked up at Gerard, his eyes looked sad, guilty even. Gerard disliked it.

“I’m sorry,” said the thief and it was Gerard’s turn to frown.

“For what?”

Again, that finger, cool against his neck, but not unwelcome. “These are my fault.”

Gerard shrugged, tried for a smile. “It’s fine. It...it’s not uncommon, even when I don’t get robbed.”

He wanted him to stop looking so sad, missed the mischief in his eyes. It was strange, seeing him so serious. Though it was also reassuring. This expression, Gerard was fairly sure, was genuine. At least he wouldn’t know a reason for pretense in this case. He looked thoughtful again, eyes flickering from the bruises on Gerard’s neck back to his face.

“What’s your name?”

“Gerard.” He answered out of reflex, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have said it after it had already left his lips.

He looked displeased, then considered. “Gerry?”

Gerard blinked, confused. “What?”

He was smiling again, though his eyes were more kind than they were mischievous this time. “I like Gerry better. Is Gerry alright?”

A nod. It sounded lovely in his voice. It sounded so far removed from how his mother called him. He did like it. “Yes.”

His smile looked a little brighter now. “Gerry, do you want to go away?”

His brows pulled together. “Go away?”

“From your mother,” he clarified.

Leaving permanently had never been something Gerry had considered. There was no escaping Mary, she was everywhere. In his life, in his dreams. But what if he could get away? At least put some physical distance between them, never go back. Now that he thought about it, it filled him with a strange combination of anxiety and thrill. 

“Why?”

“She hurts you.”

“I misbehave.” It was what he used to get told. Not anymore, really, but he didn’t ask questions anymore in the first place. He had gotten used to it.

The thief shook his head. “That’s no excuse.” They locked eyes, and Gerry was surprised at the intensity of the soft grey. “I’ve helped others escape before. I can get you out of the city-”

“What about you?” Gerry blurted out. It suddenly felt urgent to know.

“Me?” He sounded confused.

“Would...would you come with me?” Bashful; Gerry could feel his face heating up. 

It was a silly question, of course, they didn’t know each other. But Gerry would  _ like _ to know him. It felt strange to leave now that he had made an acquaintance he would actually like to talk to again. Even if he’d escape Mary. And what would he do on his own? Considering his first night outside on his own had ended in him getting thoroughly robbed it probably wouldn’t go well if he tried to escape. At least not alone.

Now the thief looked surprised, eyed Gerry curiously, pondering. When he spoke again, he sounded a little hesitant. “If...you want, I can do that.”

“I...I mean, you don’t have to! I know we don’t really...know each other.”

He chuckled. “That’s true, I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Michael, pleasure to meet you again. Properly.” He brought Gerry’s hand to his lips, barely brushed Gerry’s knuckles with them. “And I have been wanting to leave. Staying too long in one place in my, uhm...profession rarely goes well.” He winked, before adding, “And, clearly, you cannot be left on your own.” 

His tone was amused, that glimmer of mischief back in his eyes as he held up Gerry’s cravat. Gerry didn’t know what was making him blush more, but he felt like his face was on fire, lowered his eyes. Michael was still holding his hand.

Michael squeezed his hand. “Tonight?”

That did make Gerry look up again, blink in surprise. Though maybe the most surprising part was that he felt himself nod, confident. He would leave. They would run away. Tonight.

“Should...should I go back and pack?” he decided to ask, unsure.

Michael shook his head. “Too risky. We’ll find you a change of clothes, and then we’ll be on the move.”

He squeezed Gerry’s hand with a smile, before pulling him out of the alley and into the building they had been leaning against.

*

Michael had been working out of the same room for longer than was smart, probably, but now the array of clothes and whatnots that he had accumulated over the years did come in handy. It took a bit to find something not too ill-fitting on Gerry, but soon enough he was wearing clothes that made him look barely recognisable. 

Gerry was uncomfortable in the new clothes, rough fabric scratchy against his skin, but he didn’t complain. His heart hadn’t stopped racing. He was going to go. To leave. He wouldn’t have to go back to that mansion ever again. No more Mary. No more books. He would be free.

Michael came back after some more rummaging in the chest full of clothes with a cap that was a little tight when Gerry put it on, but he still smiled nonetheless. In his other hand he seemed to be holding a scarf.

“May I?” Michael asked, nodding at his neck.

Gerry nodded, held still as, for the second time this night, Michael’s fingers came close to his neck. He gently wrapped the scarf around it, smiling all the while. It was scratchy wool, but a nice black colour and Gerry ran his fingers over it once Michael stepped back. Michael watched him, watched the slight discomfort in his posture. Probably the cheap fabrics. At least it helped a little with him looking less obviously rich. It had been the way he carried himself more than the outfit that had drawn Michael’s eyes to him that first night. Wealthy. At least he didn’t look it anymore, not at first glance.

Michael gave a satisfied nod, and moved back to the bed where he had thrown the few possessions he did need to bring with him. Gerry watched as he started to pack, unsure what to do. He had always hated watching people work when he didn’t have anything to do himself.

“Can I...help?”

Michael looked back at him. “Sure. Just need to stuff all of this in the bag, really.”

Gerry was a little surprised about not being told off at first, but nodded, and moved to help.

*

The sky was starting to turn from nearly black to grey when they were finally moving. It had taken a moment to find somebody willing to take them, but eventually Gerry and Michael were huddled in a corner of a cart, otherwise occupied with what looked to be bags of wheat. It wasn’t comfortable, and Gerry already missed his coat, pulling the thinner, brown replacement he was wearing more tightly around him. He looked tired, but his eyes were still wide, still trying to catch up with what was happening, trying to make sure this was real. He watched the city grow smaller as they moved, his old life distant, out of reach. He smiled.

Michael took his hand, squeezed it. “You can sleep a little. This will take a while.”

Gerry nodded, tentatively leaned his head against Michael’s arm. It was warmer like this, and Michael gave him a smile, encouraging. Gerry smiled back and closed his eyes. He felt light, like he was floating, leaving everything that had been weighing him down back in that city. It was exciting, and unnerving, at least a little bit. But Michael was warm next to him, and his hand was still holding Gerry’s, and Gerry felt like it would be fine. 

With Michael humming gently beside him, Gerry felt like everything was possible. He couldn’t stop smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> this turned out surprisingly angsty considering it started as a joke based on a cute childhood memory dfhsbhfsdj
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
